Sweet Sixteen?
by Stepmother
Summary: Cindy's sweet sixteen. My preferred way that Mark and Maureen get together. I just like the thought that they have a prepubescent connection.


Mark tapped his foot against the legs of the chair he was sitting in, his camera in his lap. It was April 14, 1982: the day of his little sister Cindy's Sweet Sixteen. Cindy was currently giving her birthday speech that in Mark's opinion named wonderful memories with every person Scarsdale, where they lived.

His gaze moved from his sister to her best friend, Maureen Johnson, who was sitting next to her on the podium. Maureen was a sophomore, like Cindy, but seemed to have little alike. Cindy resembled Mark; incredibly shy, with pale skin, white blonde hair, and blue eyes, while Maureen had curly black hair, brown eyes, and couldn't keep her mouth shut. She was watching Cindy with a smile on her face, before she turned to Mark, catching his eye.

Mark felt his face heat up as Maureen's smile grew and she gave a little wave at Mark, who returned it half-heartedly. His growing crush for her had started ever since she had bounded into their kitchen, a smiling twelve year old that Cindy had met during ballet. Now, four years later, she had grown up considerably, and Mark couldn't stop staring at her.

". . . and most importantly, my family. Thank you so much for being there for me, when I was sick or unhappy. You guys were always supporting me, and I'll always be thankful of you," she said, indicating to her family. Everyone in the room turned to the table to see Cindy's relatives.

"Look happy," Mark's mother whispered to him while beaming. He gave a weak smile and tried to ignore the boredom that was threatening to kill him. _Most people don't give speeches at birthday parties_, he thought tiredly. _Why does Cindy have to?_

After what seemed like hours, everyone started cheering and clapping. Mark sat up and clapped as well, not sure what had happened, but glad that Cindy had finally stopped talking. Music started pumping out of the DJ's speakers, and all of Cindy's friends started pouring out onto the dance floor.

Mark watched Cindy and Maureen dance in the middle of the floor, surrounded by guys and girls alike. He felt a twinge of jealousy when a tall kid with black hair and green eyes grabbed Maureen's hips. Maureen laughed and scampered away teasingly, the guy following her around the room. Mark sighed, pulling out his camera and starting to film the teens. Sophomores were so juvenile.

After half an hour, Mark looked up from the lens, stopping his camera. It had been a while since he'd seen Maureen and the tall guy. With a sinking feeling, he put down the camera and headed for the refreshment table, having a pretty good idea where they had gone.

As he opened his Coke and took a swig, two hands covered his eyes from behind. "Guess who!" a voice cooed.

Mark laughed, pulling the hands away. "Hey, Maureen," he said, turning around to face the glowing girl.

Maureen grinned up at him. "Having fun being boring?" she asked coyly, plucking the soda from his hand and taking a sip.

He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep from blushing. "The time of my life. Where's your boyfriend?"

Maureen looked confused, but satisfied. "What boyfriend? What are you talking about?"

"Tall, dark, and handsome," Mark joked, pointing to Maureen's admirer, who was currently chatting with another girl who looked as if she had just stepped straight out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue.

"Josh?" Maureen laughed, choking on the soda. "He's not my boyfriend! He's just a friend."

". . . With benefits," Mark accused lightly, leaning against the table.

"You said it, not me," Maureen countered, sitting on the table as well.

They sat quietly for a few moments, before Maureen grew bored with the silence. "C'mon," she said, grabbing Mark's hand and whisking him away to the dance floor before he knew what was happening.

Maureen started dancing crazily while Mark just stood there, embarrassed. Maureen stood still for a second. "C'mon, Marky, dance!" she whined happily, grabbing his hands and moved them up and down while shaking her hips.

"Um, I don't dance," Mark stammered, his face heating from being so close to Maureen.

Maureen rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Please. Everyone dances. Just feel the music." She rolled her hips to demonstrate, and Mark had to look away. It was just too painful.

"Oh, come on, Marky," Maureen moaned. "Here, it's easy."

A slow song came on. The kids around them all paired up and started slowly swaying to the music.

Mark looked at Maureen in astonishment, who was giving him this look. She didn't think he was going to . . .

Maureen gently interlocked her fingers behind Mark's head, and he felt his hands instinctively go to her waist. And suddenly, they were dancing. Really, truly dancing.

Mark was stunned, not sure what to do. How was this happening? And to _him_? Things like this never happened to him. They happened to people like Josh or whatever his name was.

And yet it was real. Maureen was standing close to him, closer than he'd ever dreamed of going himself. The top of her hair just barely brushed his chin, and he could smell her shampoo. Lavender? Jasmine? Whatever it was, it smelled like Maureen. Like it was made to be worn by her, and only her. She always smelled like this. He remembered that that was what she smelled like three years ago when she had tackled him during football in the park.

Mark glanced down and saw Maureen looking at him. For once, she didn't look confident; rather, she was timidly coming closer to him. His heart beating faster than it had ever beaten in his entire life, including running the mile in gym (7:21. God, he sucked at running.)

Maureen raised herself on her tip toes and brought her mouth to Mark's for a single, gentle kiss. Mark concentrated on the feel of her lips on his, before slowly breaking apart, not sure what to do. Maureen laid her head on his shoulder quietly.

"Ahem."

They broke apart abruptly to see Cindy with her hands on her hips, glaring at them. "What the hell is this?" she asked angrily.

Maureen stepped up. "I'm sorry, Cindy, it's my fault. I kissed him and-"

"What!" Cindy cried. "You guys kissed!"

Mark realized at that moment that she hadn't seen them kiss. "Um . . ." he said, not sure how to break this to Cindy.


End file.
